


Supplication

by lady_summoner



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-23
Updated: 2016-03-23
Packaged: 2018-05-28 15:47:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6334867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lady_summoner/pseuds/lady_summoner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Struggling to come to terms with the events of the Antitower and the Falcon's Nest peace summit, the Warrior of Light tries to steal a moment to himself.  But all he finds is another concern...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Supplication

**Author's Note:**

> Another 'what-if' drabble.

The air is cold, bracing. It’s a rare clear night in the Western Highlands, and the stars are out in full force.  He’d already spotted a few astrologers as he left Falcon’s Nest, electing to follow the wind currents in his jumps.  All is peaceful and quiet as he lands on a small clifftop, and the Warrior of Light closes his eyes and lifts his face to the heavens.  He needed this-to feel the wind blow over his face and body, to hear it whisper in his ears.  After the events of the past fortnight, he just wanted some time alone… Tears suddenly sting, and the Warrior of Light bites his lower lip.  Unexpressed emotions are threatening to rise-grief, guilt, anger…threatening to break his stoic composure.  Brionac trembles in his hand as he fights to control his feelings.  He wants to scream, he wants to howl, he wants to curse-he’s tired of dealing with the Ishgardians, he’s tired of feeling guilt around Thancred and the other Scions, he’s angry at himself for Estinien…

“What should I do?”  His voice quavers ever so slightly.  “Tell me, please.  I…I don’t know what to do.”  Sucking in a breath, the Warrior looks around him-the ground covered in perfect blanket of white snow and blue ice.  “It feels as if I’m failing everyone…”

“It’s not failure.  It’s betrayal.”  The Warrior goes stock still at the familiar voice, and then spins around.  Brionac no longer shakes-now it’s rock steady as the tip points at a red and black armored body.  “A long time ago, I felt exactly the same way.” The Warrior of Light says nothing, watching as the Warrior of Darkness uncrosses his arms and steps forward, stopping just out of Brionac’s range.  A smirk crosses his lips as his hand goes to the blood-stained Bravura.

“I’m surprised to see you all alone out here without your friends.”

“The same goes for you.”  The Warrior of Light responds.  His blood is starting to sing, a good combat spar always helped him work though his troubles.  But as he tries to focus, doubts begin to rise up in his mind-ones that he had kept close to his heart, and not spoken of to anyone.  Could he fight this Warrior of Darkness and win?  Memories of his time in the aetherical sea come back-of a howl of pain so primal that he could feel it in his very core.  Of Krile and Master Matoya speaking of the powers of various Crystals of Light…

_He is older than me.  Far older._  The Echo vision had confirmed as such.   _And I…_  The Warrior of Light’s grip tightened on Brionac.  He was younger, and while he had power…with everything that had happened recently…  The pitch of the wind suddenly changes, and the Warrior of Light’s attention snaps back to the present.  His rival-no, his counterpart has suddenly vanished-and Thancred is in front of him, daggers withdrawn.  With a scowl he turns his head, his one eye fixing on the Warrior of Light.

“Are you alright?”  He demands.  “I saw you alone up here, good thing I came over!”  

“I’m…I’m fine.”  The Warrior responds.  Thancred does not seem convinced, turning to face the younger man, slipping his daggers back into their sheaths.

“…Are you sure? You do not seem well.”

"It’s nothing.”  The Warrior of Light forces a smile on his face-something that over the over the past year, he’s learned to do very well.  “I just needed to clear my head, that’s all.  From everything going on in the city.”  His tone is casual-betraying none of his inner turmoil. It seems to do the trick, Thancred nods.

“I can understand that.”  


End file.
